It didn't take me long to fall back into old habits. Drinking, going to bed in the morning, waking up in the afternoon, drinking. These routines are indulgences, but they don't really make me feel very good.
Last night at the bar, the interchangeable conversations with acquaintances, the catty gossip for gossip's sake, girls dressed to the fucking teeth - I felt like I could turn to vapor and everything would go on and on and on this way forever. I felt like I hadn't left town but wished that I had.
Because I get annoyed by the self-paparazzi at bars, because I just don't want to bother, because it doesn't usually seem worth capturing, I haven't been taking many pictures this week. My days have been defined by my evenings. My evenings have been fuzzy, dark, disappointing and they leave a ringing in my ears. Mostly, I just forget to pull the camera out. So this picture is from my birthday two years ago. Because, I don't know.
The unhappiness you carry inside you isn't tricked by zip codes.
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